Vampires Are People, Too
by la raconteur
Summary: If you love Twilight, you probably won't like this. These vampires don't sparkle. Nor do they brood in an emo fashion. However, there is contemplation of whether or not Blood Pops taste like real blood. Or if Harry Potter's blood is as heroic as he is.
1. Chapter 1

**Vampires are People, Too**

by la raconteur

**All characters and Harry Potter related objects, places or things belong to J.K. Rowling and the appropriate parties. Leopold Ackerley, thankfully, is mine.**

A review or two or twenty would be pretty sweet.

**Chapter 1**

Everything seemed to be going well for Anthony, until he decided to take a walk down a dark alley and he was attacked.

It wasn't until much later that he found out the attack would change his entire life.

He blamed Roger Davies for the whole incident; he was heading to Roger's flat at the time, and had accidentally apparated to the alley next to the flat rather than the flat itself. If Roger didn't have all his ridiculous Auror security spells all over the place, it probably would have been easier to apparate to the right location. Now, not only did he have to pick his way through a disgusting alley, he was going to be late to poker night, which meant he automatically had to throw ten galleons into the pot.

"I hate Aurors, I really do. Bloody hex happy terrorists, the lot of them," Anthony grumbled, trudging through discolored puddles and around sullied rags. He disliked the ministry in general, actually, and would have given almost anything to move back to America. Not that the American government, or America for that matter, was any better, they were just far more disorganized which meant most law abiding wizards were left alone. Americans were in a heavy state of denial when it came to wizardry and they much preferred to ignore it rather than police it.

Anthony continued to mutter grumpily, trying to ignore that periodic scuttling of the various vermin he knew were inhabiting the alley with him. Discarded periodicals drifted around dramatically, and Anthony couldn't help but notice that the scene wouldn't be out of place in a muggle horror movie.

That was perhaps the last thing he thought about before blacking out and waking up in St. Mungo's.

"Ugh, everything hurts," he muttered, thickly. The lights seemed abnormally bright, the bedding frigid, and all around him people were screaming. "Bloody hell."

"He's awake!" Someone screeched in his ear.

"Not so loud!" He shouted back.

"That wasn't loud!" Someone else yelled. Anthony opened his eyes, roared in pain and threw his arm across his face.

"Shut off the damn high beams, will you?" There was a tremendous amount of noise followed by blessed darkness. Only it wasn't so dark to Anthony, who could see as clear as he could if the stupid lights were still on. Confused, he sat up and discovered his wily friends, sitting around his bed and staring at him with equal parts of concern and relief.

"It's good to know that the attack didn't effect his temperament," Roger remarked, amused. He was still speaking exceedingly loud, but Anthony could stand it a little more now that he fully conscious.

"Attack? What attack? What's going on?" His friends glanced at each other awkwardly, an unspoken argument going on between them. "Someone bloody better tell me." Leopold Ackerley cleared his throat and adjusted his position on his chair.

"Well, you see, my dear cousin," Leopold started, clearing his throat again. "Here, have a lolly." Leopold handed Anthony a darkly colored pop, with a sheepish smile on his face.

"What do I want with this?"

"To get used to the flavor."

"What flavor?" Anthony looked down at the pop in his hand to read the label but Leopold answered his question first.

"Blood. You're a vampire now, Anthony."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Do you think he'll snap again?"

"Probably. No one wants to be told he's a vampire."

"Especially not by Leo."

"Hey. He's my cousin. Plus, I think I handled it quite nicely."

"You gave him a lolly."

"It was a Blood Pop! If I became a vampire, I'd like to be given a Blood Pop as a welcome into the blood sucker society."

"Merlin's beard, I hope you don't become a vampire. We'd never have a moment's peace."

"Oh shut it, the lot of you." All talking abruptly ceased as Anthony opened his eyes and sat up again to face his cohorts. They were all still there, still watching him uneasily, except Leo, who looked disgruntled. It didn't take a lot for Leo to get disgruntled, it would seem; Anthony knew that first hand. "What happened? Again."

"Well, you sort of went mental on us and you had to be sedated," Cho Chang explained cautiously.

"And restrained," Mandy Brocklehurst added. He tried to move his hand only to discover that he was, indeed, chained to the bed. "You're a bit stronger now, Anthony, so you should probably not do things like that again." The others nodded in agreement, shifting uneasily. He noticed that they seemed to be sitting a bit further away from his bed. Anthony supposed it was a true testament to their friendship that they were all still there at all, even if they weren't exactly as his bedside. The thing was, declarations of friendship weren't necessarily what Anthony needed at the moment. He needed to not be a vampire.

"It won't be so bad, mate. You already hate people, so you'll only have to see them half as much. And it'll be night, so they'll probably be drunk," Roger said, hopefully.

"And immortality should be all right. You'll always know whether the history books are correct or not," Eddie Carmichael pointed out.

"I think we're all forgetting the superhuman-like power he's going to have. Super strength, super speed, super senses. You can be like one of those muggle book heroes! It'll be brilliant!" Michael Corner said, excitedly. Everyone collectively rolled his or her eyes. Including Terry Boot, the other muggle born among them, who usually found opportunities to remind them of the similarities between muggle life and wizard, whether the comparisons were welcome or not.

"I hardly think that being a muggle book hero is on Anthony's list of priorities," Leo sneered. "And you thought the Blood Pop was bad."

"It was bad," the others chorused. Leo made a face, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know what to say," Anthony muttered. And he didn't. This was all so sudden and overwhelming, and his friends prattling on about the perks of being a vampire was not helping in the slightest.

"Anthony, love, Leo owled your parents. They should be here soon," Cho said kindly, patting Anthony's hand carefully. She flinched when he moved to catch her hand in his, but smiled when she realized what he was doing. "We'll stay here with you until they come."

"You don't have to do that."

"We want to. And if these idiots are done with their Stupid Facts About Vampires chat, we actually brought helpful books with information about vampires," Jonathan Summers said, putting a stack of books in Anthony's lap. Anthony glanced down at them, before pushing them aside. He was getting angry now, angry that this wasn't a joke, angry that they were still talking like this was no big deal, angry that he was suddenly really damn hungry.

"I'm hungry," was the problem that he expressed vocally. Everyone pushed back their chairs in unison. "What?"

"No offense Goldstein, but that goes beyond the friend thing," Roger remarked, adjusting in his seat.

"What are you going on about?"

"Blood sucking, my dear cousin. They, and I'm sorry to say I as well, though I do love you, do not wish to become victims." Leo did look rather apologetic saying this, and he gave the others a dirty look, perhaps because _he_ hadto say it.

"Also, while we're on the subject of unfortunate news, the uh, the Ministry will be sending someone over to register you," Eddie added, hesitantly. He shifted uncomfortably, a move that looked greatly exaggerated to Anthony but was probably done at normal speed. If he didn't get used to them soon, these enhanced senses were going to drive him insane. "You're considered a magical being now."

"I'm considered a _what?!_" Anthony forgot that he was chained to the bed and the handcuffs cut into his wrist. He looked down, expecting to see blood, but all he saw was a black tar like substance oozing from the gash. "Oh god, that's horrendous!"

"You're still a wizard to us, mate," Jonathan reassured him, trying not to look at the goo that was supposed to be Anthony's blood. "You know the ministry, bunch of gits and the like. Not offense Roger, Leo, Eddie, Terry."

"None taken," the addressed quad responded. "We've insulted your way of life plenty of times," Roger added.

"What? When?"

"All the time, really," Leo replied, waving a dismissive hand. "You're the arse of most of our jokes when you're not around, actually." Jonathan looked crushed by this news, which made everyone else laugh.

"I'm so glad you're taking my grave misfortune as an opportunity to tell Jonathan how worthless he is," Anthony growled.

"Worthless?!"

"I'm sorry, Anthony, I know it seems like we're making light of your situation," Cho began, ignoring Jonathan. She smoothed down her apron, nervously. "But—"

"But we're just trying to show you that it doesn't change things," Mandy cut in.

"Not much, anyway. You'll need a new job, of course, and the Ministry'll watch you like hawk, but you still have us. And your family," Terry said. Anthony glared at him. This was all nonsense. They couldn't possibly know what it meant to have your life completely turned on its head while heading to a stupid poker game in the middle of the night.

"This is your fault, Roger." Roger jumped back, clearly not expecting this new revelation to come from Anthony.

"_My_ fault? Are you out of your blood sucking mind?"

"You and your stupid Auror spells made me miss the mark when I apparated! I ended up in the damn forsaken alley."

"How is it my fault that you don't know how to apparate properly?"

"I can apparate fine, it was your stupid spells—" Anthony rattled his bindings menacingly. If he was supposed to have super strength, according to Michael, how was it that he couldn't break free from some simple handcuffs?

"Now really, Anthony, you're being a poor sport—" Leo interrupted.

"Oh shut up, you great pillock. I don't need to hear it from you. The worse you've had to deal with is that nonsensical affair with Harry Potter—"

"That was a very stressful time of my life and I'd thank you not to belittle it—"

"Shut it, Leo!"

"Everyone shut it!" Cho shouted, hands on her hips. She suddenly looked like the very authoritative healer she was supposed to be. With Anthony's magnified hearing, she might as well have magically enhanced her voice and yelled into his ears. He touched his ear to make sure he wasn't bleeding from the head. "You're all being ridiculous! Anthony is going through something terrible right now and all we can think about is ourselves." They were deathly silent for a moment until Jonathan cleared his throat.

"For the record, I was trying to make him feel better until I was viciously ganged up on," he said. Cho growled and pointed at the door.

"Ugh. Get out of here, the lot of you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Anthony had to endure several weeks of Ministry induced torture, as though suddenly becoming the walking undead wasn't bad enough.

First they watched his every move while he was in St. Mungo's, posting a member of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at his door at all times. Apparently his problem transcended subdepartment lines, because Eddie, prominent member of the Werewolf Capture Unit, made sure he was the guard most of the time. Anthony hadn't quite grasped how serious his situation was until they were allowing ruthless werewolf hunters to make sure he didn't chomp on someone's neck.

"No worries, mate. It's just until they're sure you know the rules and regulations," Eddie tried to reassure him. He failed.

Anthony's mother was completely devastated, almost to an overdramatic extent. His father had to remind her that he was at least still alive and all it really meant was that he had to stay out of the sun and get used to a liquid diet. Leopold's mother and father visited, as well, with Stewart in tow. Anthony Ackerley stressed the fact that there would be no change in how him or his family saw their favorite cousin, Stewart kept remarking on how cool he thought the whole thing was. Victoria was silent and sympathetic, motherly fluffing up his pillows and asking him how he felt.

Anthony wanted to point out to everyone that the more they said that his vampirism didn't change anything, the more they were proving that it changed _everything_.

"I've found one good thing about the Ministry, heh. They're trying to keep this whole thing quiet," Jonathan Summers remarked, tossing aside the newest _Daily Prophet. _Michael Corner shrugged, concentrating on his and Terry's game of Wizard Chess.

"They told us not to, out of respect to Goldstein, and so we didn't create mass vampire induced panic," Michael said, not looking up. "Not only is Anthony a vampire, but it means there's a vampire around willing to transform others. New Minister's as shady as the others, it would seem."

"Any idea what you're going to do now that you can't go out in the daylight?" Adrian Pucey asked. He was fluctuating between watching Michael and Terry's game and looking out for the cute nurse that tended to Anthony's ward.

Anthony not only couldn't go out during the day, bright lights bothered the hell out of him as aforementioned cute nurse found out the hard way when she turned on the lights around his bed to see if he needed anything.

"No ruddy idea. What the hell _can_ I do?" Anthony sipped at the cup of blood they brought him every four hours. He didn't know what kind of blood it was or where they got it from, but he didn't much care. It helped him with his gut wrenching hunger, and that was all that mattered. Leopold had somehow put it in a child's cup and labeled it "firewhiskey," which Anthony didn't want to admit amused him.

"You can be a barkeep. Just get someone to run the place during the day," Terry suggested, smiling as one of his pieces beat the piss out of one of Michael's.

"Who? Do we know anyone who wants to help run a pub?" Adrian wondered.

"Not really."

"You can open up a nightclub!" Jonathan suddenly burst out with way too much excitement. The other men stopped what they were doing to look at him.

"What in the bleeding hell is a nightclub, Summers?" Anthony grumbled.

"Oh it's this fantastic thing that muggles came up with. There's music and dancing and drinking. Best time you'll ever have. You can open the first wizard one! You'd make millions!" No one said anything for a while. Anthony didn't know about the others, but he was trying to figure out the best way to tell Jonathan that he was a complete idiot without actually saying that he was a complete idiot.

"You know," Terry said after a while, putting Michael's queen in check. "That's not the worst idea."

"Are you a nutter, Boot? That sounds like something Leo would come up with," Pucey barked, with a laugh. "Can you imagine Goldstein with music and dancing?"

"And if it did become popular, that's an awful lot of people to be around everyday," Michael pointed out. He chanced a glance at Anthony.

"I'm not going to avoid people because of vampirism. I already avoid people because they're morons."

"There, see? Anthony can't open up an evening club with an ingrained hatred of humanity." Pucey stood up and peeked his head out of the room. "Besides, you need money to open things like that."

"It's called a _night_club, Adrian, and he won't need that much money. Plus, we could find someone to help. Someone with money."

"Morning, gents!" Roger, Leopold, a red haired guy Anthony didn't know and…Harry Potter entered the room. Anthony was at a loss for words. He knew they'd all started hanging out with Potter while Anthony was in America, he just didn't think they'd bring the man to visit him in his time of infinite distress. "And it is morning, you lot, even if you wouldn't know it from being in here." They had boarded up the windows in the room and bewitched the spaces to look like nighttime.

"We're on our break and we thought we'd come visit," Leo explained. He took a seat at the edge of Anthony's bed and unwrapped a Blood Pop. He examined it carefully before sticking it in his mouth. Roger, Harry, and the redhead stared at him in shock. "What? I wanted to see how it tastes."

"You're scaring your trainee," Harry said. Leo shrugged. He took the pop out of his mouth and smiled, revealing bloodstained teeth. The trainee shuddered inching closer to the door.

"Leo, tell Anthony that opening a nightclub is a good idea," Jonathan started. Leopold stuck the pop back into his mouth and raised an eyebrow at Jonathan. Either Leopold had suddenly gotten a taste for blood or the pops really didn't live up to their name.

"What's a nightclub?"

"I thought you all were informed Ravenclaws!"

"To be fair, I'm a Slytherin," Pucey corrected.

"Whatever."

"They didn't teach nightclubs in Muggle Studies," Leo said. "Explain your words, Summers."

"A nightclub is basically a pub with dancing, music and drinks and stuff. Great colorful lights everywhere. Shows. Things of that nature. A muggle friend of mine took me to one downtown. It was fantastic."

"And you want our _Anthony_ to open one?" Leopold snorted derisively. "Good luck with that mission."

"He hasn't said no yet, have you Anthony?" All eyes turned to Anthony. A part of him thought the idea was totally absurd. Being around a bunch of gyrating drunken people every night sounded like the very opposite of what he wanted to do with his time. But if Summers was right, and he'd be the owner of the only wizarding nightclub in Britain, well, he could potentially make cauldrons full of money. And skive off dying from total boredom.

"Where would I get the money to start this?" Jonathan let out a loud whoop. "Hang on, I wasn't agreeing. But I'm curious as to how I would begin this thing."

"We could have a really long poker night," Roger suggested. Anthony threw him a cutting glare. "Or not."

"We could all donate a bit. How much could it possibly take?" Jonathan wondered.

"That could only get us so far. I don't have that much expendable income, I don't know about the rest of you," Michael said. The others grumbled in agreement.

"I could help you out," Harry Potter said, quietly. They all quickly snapped their attention to him. He inched backward like Leo's trainee. "That is, if you want my help."

"I don't even know you, I can't take your money."

"When the place starts making money, you could pay me back."

"And if it fails?"

"I'll consider it a failed investment and move on. I'm not bragging or anything, but I have a fair amount of galleons in my vault. I can spare a couple to help a friend in need." Everyone looked back at Anthony for his decision.

Anthony couldn't possibly take money from someone he hardly knew, let alone the savior of the wizarding world. That just seemed like bad form. He was, however, offering and it might be considered worse to decline an act of good faith. Anthony sipped his blood thoughtfully.

"Are you sure you want to put your money in something like this?"

"I haven't had any other outrageous ideas to throw money at lately. But I will say that the last thing I gave financial backing to is making millions." Leo threw Harry a sharp questioning look, which Harry ignored.

"I should probably do some more research."

"But you'll do it?" Jonathan asked, voice high pitched with excitement. Anthony winced at the ear piercing sound and Terry punched the other man for speaking so loudly. A few days ago, the entire group had gone over the list of things they could or could not do around Anthony anymore. Shouting was on the top of the list. Right next to calling him Sir Surly Dracula.

"Why the hell not?" There was a mixture of cheers and shrugs from his assembled group of friends. He, himself, wasn't quite sure how to react.

Anthony hoped he wasn't getting himself into something totally ridiculous.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Merlin, you're positively ghostly, cousin. Women are going to ignore you now more than ever."

"Shut up, Leo. I don't see flocks of witches fawning over you at all."

"You haven't been around me enough. Once you get this nightclub off the ground, watch out!"

The St. Mungo's vampire expert had told Anthony that sudden, permanent paleness was to be expected. He also said that there was no need for Anthony to sleep in a coffin as long as he made sure his bedroom was sealed off to sunlight. Jonathan's vampire books further clarified the reality or the falsehood to various vampire myths. The one that was of the most relief was the having to be invited before he could enter buildings thing. That would have made life more difficult than it needed to be. He also didn't _have_ to sleep during the day, it was just logical since he couldn't go outside anyway.

The Ministry _strongly_ recommended that he fed on animals, insisting that they didn't need mass panic on the streets of London because bodies were being discovered with fang marks every night. Anthony got the feeling that their strong recommendations were more like laws. He'd seen hundreds of ministry officials before they finally let him go home. They were really working hard to keep Anthony quiet and happy.

"I don't remember saying you'd be allowed into the club."

"Oh now that's just brutal considering it was my idea."

"It was _Summers_' idea."

"In theory, yes."

"In theory and in actuality." Leo glared scathingly at Anthony, turning back to yet another volume on vampirism that he was reading.

"Now I know why people hate vampires so much."

There _was_ quite a large loathing of vampires, not just in Britain, but in the rest of the world as well. Anthony figured it probably had to do with fear. That and maybe the fact that vampires sucked blood and periodically killed.

"I'm hungry."

"You know, I've noticed that you say that when a conversation isn't going your way. There will be no sliding my chair away from you this time, cousin, I have your number now." Anthony leaned back into the couch and opened a can of the artificial blood they'd given him before leaving Mungo's.

"Leo, when you say phrases like "I've got your number" it makes people want to punch you. Just so you know." Leopold gave him another filthy look and threw the book he was reading at Anthony's head. With inhuman speed, Anthony snatched the book out of the air and placed it on the coffee table before Leo could even put his hand down.

"You are a freak of nature. You're lucky you're family. Let that owl in before he collapses." Anthony had already heard the tapping on the window long before Leo noticed it and had been diligently ignoring it.

"It's still light out." With a dramatic sigh, Leo stood up, shooing Anthony away.

"Go into the kitchen or something, I don't know how far away you need to be from sunlight, I haven't gotten to that in the books yet." Anthony didn't think it was necessary for him to be out of the room, but he left anyway to retrieve another can of blood. Sleeping during the day was something else he hadn't quite gotten used to and had spent the last two days _trying_ to force himself to treat the daylight hours how he used to treat the night ones, but all he succeeded in doing was taking a three hour nap. "It's from the Ministry!" Leo called to him.

"They just saw me today, what else could they possibly have to say?" Anthony grabbed the letter from Leopold and tore it open. He quickly read it, laughed, then crumpled it up. The owl was watching him expectantly, and he wondered if whoever had sent the message told it to wait for a response from him.

"What does it say?"

"They want me to move out of London. They say there's a rather quaint cottage outside of Salisbury that's available next to a forest full of delectable animals." Anthony grabbed a spare bit of parchment and a quill. He thought for a moment about a proper response. Then in huge letters he scrolled out: "Sod off." He rolled up the parchment and attached it to the owl's leg. He didn't look directly at the window as Leo opened it to let it back out. Leo took one look at Anthony's smug look and groaned.

"Please do not tell me you just told the Ministry to sod off."

"I did. You saw me write it."

"You're _completely_ mental."

"They shouldn't tell me where to live. I've got this vampire thing pretty under control, I won't go attacking unsuspecting Londoners any time soon." Leopold picked up a book and quickly flipped through the pages, looking for something.

"I read somewhere that your desire to hunt gets stronger once you've had a taste for it."

"Not true so far."

"That's because you haven't been drinking real blood. You've had Blood Pops and the garbage St. Mungo's gave you, but you haven't had real straight from the vein to your mouth blood." Anthony extended his fangs menacingly. He raised an eyebrow at Leopold and leaned forward.

"Would you like me to get a taste now?"

"You are a disturbed individual, as well." Anthony snorted, sitting back. He had to admit, if there were one good thing about being a vampire, messing with people was it. "I mean it, Anthony, you're treating this like it's some unusual sickness that should go away soon. You're entire way of life has changed."

"I'll thank you not to tell me how to handle my fanged disposition." Anthony tested out his fangs by puncturing the can of blood. He was surprised how easily he bit through the can and got up to get another can to practice on. His list of fun quirks of being a vampire was growing. "I know what I'm doing. I don't feel like biting anyone, in fact, the thought of doing that sickens me. I'll be fine until the Mungo's supply of blood runs out. Then who knows, maybe I'll go find a dog or something to feed on." Leopold rolled his eyes taking a gulp of cold coffee to stop himself from pressing the matter further. Anthony was grateful. He was fairly sure that he wasn't handling the situation and that once the Mungo's supply ran out he might starve to death. That is, unless he couldn't convince them to give him more.

"Have you given anymore thought to the nightclub idea?"

"Maybe." He thought about it everyday. Mostly because he had nothing else to do with his time. The Ministry had taken it upon themselves to contact his job and tell them he wouldn't be returning and being the generous individuals that they were, had not found him somewhere else to work. He was unemployed, semi-nocturnal, and blood thirsty.

Life really didn't seem fair, sometimes.

"Maybe?"

"All right, yes. I've thought about it. I think it's a good idea, but it'll take a lot to work out. And the Ministry may not approve." Leo raised an eyebrow.

"If Harry Potter's involved, they will."

"Do I want to be involved with Harry Potter?" Leopold awkwardly picked up a book again, leafing through it casually. Anthony could tell he was trying to choose his wording carefully. He could tell because he could hear it.

Anthony, in a revelation that scared the crap out of him, could hear Leo's heart beating rapidly.

"The whole world wants to be involved with Harry Potter."

"You included."

"Shut up."

"Won't having Harry Potter around call a lot of attention to me?"

"It won't be negative, though. And if somehow they find out you're a vampire, having Potter on your side might stall the lynch mobs. Besides, he wants to help. And when Harry Potter wants to do something, it's in your best interest to let him do it."

"Know this from experience, do you?" Anthony said slyly. Leo threw another book at him, which he of course caught again.

"Listen, Dracula, we're talking about you here, not me." Leopold folded his arms across his chest and pouted, much like he would do when they were children and Anthony beat him at Exploding Snap.

"All right, all right, I'm sorry. You work with Potter, tell him let's meet—" There was another tapping at the window and Anthony averted his eyes while Leopold opened it. A haggard looking owl tumbled in and landed in front of Anthony with a loud thud on the coffee table. Anthony turned away, refusing to open the letter, and Leopold grabbed the letter from the owl instead. "What now?"

" 'We understand your unwillingness to vacate your domicile and hope you understand our suggestion was merely made in your best interest. If you do change your mind, the cottage in Salisbury is quite larger than it looks from the outside.' "


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Quite confusingly, the majority of Anthony's friends threw themselves into the planning of Anthony's new nightclub. Even the ones who had their own careers to pay attention to. Anthony thought at first it was because they wanted to prove to him that they really didn't think he was a monster, but as time went on, he realized they were actually enjoying it. Far more than he was, at least.

"Anthony, I was thinking either dark red or dark green for the walls, what do you think?" Cho asked, holding up color swatches. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by pieces of fabric and squares of paint colors. Anthony looked up from the figures and numbers he was calculating and opened his mouth to tell her _not _red. He didn't need to be completely obvious.

"Red or green?" Roger interrupted with a frown. He had rolls of parchment littering the kitchen table but he wouldn't tell anyone what he was doing. "What's wrong with blue? This is a Ravenclaw club."

"No, this is a _wizarding_ club," Cho argued.

"I think dark blue would be nice," Jonathan volunteered getting that usual bright eyed stare he got when something excited him. He was apparently thinking of names for the club, but Anthony thought he was going to have to take that job away from Summers soon. He'd thus far come up with "Sparkle" and "Raven's Claw," both of which were immediately shot down by anyone who heard. "With twinkling stars all over the place!" Terry punched him in the arm.

"You're talking too loudly again," Boot growled. Summers rubbed his arm with a frown. He'd been punched a lot, lately.

"What about gold? When the light hits it right, it'll look beautiful," Mandy offered.

"I was asking _Anthony_. And I've narrowed it down to these specific colors because of the furniture I'm looking at." Cho looked at Anthony. "What do you think?"

"I, um, I'm not really good at those kinds of things, actually. You guys choose."

"They can't agree," Potter remarked, still looking at the figures Anthony had abandoned. He'd obviously been around the Ravenclaws enough to know when to stay out of their usual arguments. "You should choose."

"Fine. The blue sounded all right. With the stars." He winced, hoping Jonathan wouldn't go overboard with the star thing.

"But that won't match my furniture!"

"Have you gotten the furniture yet?" Summers asked, a hint of triumph in his tone. Cho shot him a dirty look.

"No, of course not."

"Well then pick different ones." Cho and Jonathan began arguing amongst themselves and the others ignored the pair. It was blessedly quiet save for their angry muttering until Roger cleared his throat.

"I have found premises," he declared firmly. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. "However, it's not in an ideal location."

"That could mean anything from the moon to Brixton. Be more specific," Boot said.

"It's underground. In a tube station, actually." There was a pause. "Golders Green." The group broke out in loud protests. Anthony had to cover his ears.

"That's in the middle of nowhere!"

"No one will find it!"

"Underground?"

"Half of London doesn't even know where that is!"

"How is it underground?"

"Half of London? Try most of wizarding Britain."

"Is anyone else wondering about this underground thing?"

"Bloody hell, you're killing my ears!" Everyone quickly shut up and looked to Anthony for guidance. Anthony pinched the bridge of his nose and let his head drop back against the couch. Second and third thoughts were beginning to form in his overworked mind, and he wondered what kind of outburst he'd have to suffer through if he told them to forget the whole thing. "We'll make it work. Roger chose it for a reason, obviously."

"It was the cheapest." Anthony paused. The room tensed.

"You're barking."

"No, I'm serious. It'll be good, guys. Underground makes it more mysterious! Plus, Anthony can be there anytime since there won't be any sunlight." The others stopped their protestations long enough to think about what Roger had said. It did make sense, having it underground so Anthony could actually be there whenever he wanted. And underground meant that muggles wouldn't accidentally wander in.

"Perhaps you're not a complete idiot, then, Roger," Eddie Carmichael remarked after a pause.

"I never was a complete idiot and I'm appalled that you would even consider that," Roger said smugly. He handed a roll of parchment to Harry, who started looking it over. He raised his eyebrows and nodded to himself, clearly also surprised at Roger's ability to be clever.

"Did anyone ask the Ministry yet if we're even allowed to do this?" Michael asked. The non-Ministry workers among them looked at the Ministry workers.

"I asked Shacklebolt if he thought it was a good idea," Harry said awkwardly.

"What did he say?"

"He said no. But he didn't think anyone would try to stop us if we went on with it anyway."

"Why did he say no?" Anthony had a pretty good idea why Shacklebolt had said no and it involved him and his potential blood sucking capabilities. He knew this would happen and if the general public found out that Anthony was a vampire, they would never get business. He'd be run out of town. Have Holy Water thrown on to him. He then realized that he didn't know if Holy Water actually hurt him.

"Because Shacklebolt is not entirely for fun activities. Especially if his Aurors are involved," Roger replied, but he didn't sound convinced. He probably knew the real answer as well. Potter was watching Anthony, though. Anthony's disgust must have been showing on his face because Harry reached over and gave him a light pat on the shoulder.

"It'll be all right, mate. No one but the Ministry knows there's a new vampire and only a select few know your name. And the ones who know your name, besides your friends, were put under the Fidelius Charm."

"I think a vampire run nightclub would be cool—" Summers began. Terry punched him again.

"The world _hates_ vampires, Summers. If you stop playing around with muggles, you'll see that."

"Does it matter what the world thinks as long as we don't feel the same way?" No one answered immediately; they all looked awkwardly at each other, not sure of what answer would be the most appropriate while still being the truth.

"Yes," Anthony replied quietly. "It matters."

It mattered quite a bit.


	6. Chapter 6

I can has reviews?

**Chapter 6**

"So you're going to need a new nightclub owner name."

"What's wrong with Anthony Goldstein?"

"Would you go to a nightclub owned by someone as bland as Anthony Goldstein?"

"Leo, no more than two months ago, you didn't know what a nightclub was." Leo waved a dismissive hand at Anthony. They were sitting in St. Mungo's waiting room, patiently waiting for Anthony to be called into his monthly appointment. Anthony thought it was just in time, too, for he'd consumed his last can of blood that morning and if he was going to refrain from feasting on innocent Londoners, he needed some more. The late nights working on the nightclub had not helped him conserve his stores. "How about Tony Goldstein?"

"I was thinking something like…Rojo del Sangre." Anthony snorted derisively. It was the most ludicrous excuse for a name Anthony ever heard. He sometimes feared for Leopold's sanity and wondered if a mental health examination was part of Auror training. He thought about Roger Davies and decided that it wasn't. "Mysteriously wealthy wizard from Spain."

"Spain? Do you think anyone would believe that I'm Spanish?" Although, the fact that his hair was going from brown to jet black could change that. But the extraordinary paleness of his skin might make people second guess themselves.

"If you speak Spanish at inappropriate times, they will."

"You are so ridiculous." Anthony glanced around at the various wizards inflicted with painful and incredible maladies. Some were merely curious, like the man with the third arm growing out of his forehead. The hand was holding his had and he was flipping placidly through the latest _Witch Weekly._ Some looked agonizing, like the woman who kept turning into a different animal every five minutes, her bones making horrible crunching noises as they shrank and expanded depending on the animal. Whenever she reverted back to her human form, tears streamed down her face.

"So you don't like it? I can think of something else."

"Please don't." Anthony didn't hear Leopold's smarmy comeback; a strong, absolutely delicious smell had caught his attention. He looked around, not even sure what he was looking for until his gaze fell upon a pretty witch who was bleeding profusely from the nose. As he gazed at her, the smell became stronger and more alluring. A powerful wave of hunger consumed him and he licked his lips without realizing it.

He could run and grab her without anyone noticing, couldn't he? He was fast, inhumanly fast, no one would see. He could grab her, find an out of the way broom cupboard, sink his teeth into that soft neck--

"Anthony. Anthony? Hey, what is wrong with you?" Anthony reluctantly dragged his attention from the witch to look at Leopold. "Are you…are you drooling?"

"What? No!"

"What were you staring at?"

"Nothing." Leopold glanced around the room and spotted the bleeding witch. His face instantly fell. "It's not what you think."

"Merlin," Leo muttered under his breath. The smell of the girl's blood was driving Anthony mad, but he couldn't show that he was affected, not in front of Leopold. It was getting harder and harder to ignore her; his body was acting on its own accord, feet bouncing restlessly, hands clenching and unclenching on the arms of the chair. He would get up and grab her soon and wouldn't care who saw him.

"Honestly, Leo. She's pretty, that's what it was."

"You don't stare at someone like she's a cheeseburger just because she's pretty," Leo said through clenched teeth. He covertly pulled out his wand and pointed it at the witch. The bleeding instantly stopped and the strong blood scent faded. The witch looked confused at the sudden healing of her nose and looked around. When no one immediately claimed responsibility, she shrugged, stood up, and left.

"You didn't have to do that, I had it under control," Anthony muttered weakly.

"You were salivating."

"I haven't eaten in awhile."

"You were seconds away from attacking her." Anthony forced the image of his teeth sinking into the witch's neck. He could almost taste her blood and his mouth went dry.

"I was not. You're overreacting."

"I keep telling you, but you won't listen to me. Everything's different now and you're treating it like it's not."

"No, you lot are. You lot _insist_ day after day that nothing's different except the fact that you can't hang out with me in the sun. But I know how you feel. I see how you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. You're scared. And that's fine. But stop treating me like I just have some sort of sickness that'll go away if we ignore it."

"That's not how we treat you."

"It is Leo. I told you, I know and understand what is going on and I'm handling it. Just calm down." Leo folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to look defiant, yet he failed. Anthony shook his head and glanced away. He felt a bit bad about taking his frustrations out on Leo, who was doing nothing more than trying to be supportive of a family member.

"So you don't want my help?" Leopold sounded like a sad little child. "None of our help?"

"Don't be such a baby about it," Anthony spat. "And it's not that I don't want your help, I want you to calm down with it. Leave me alone for a few hours once in a while. I don't need a constant sitter." The residual effect the witch's blood was having on Anthony said otherwise, but he didn't tell this to Leo, of course. He needed this, he needed to be away from their sad, frightened, nervous glances sometimes.

He tried not to admit to himself that he kept staring at Leo's neck.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Without Leopold talking himself stupid at his side, Anthony was free to finally spend a night out alone. It was his first one since his transformation, and he would enjoy it.

He didn't like how his friends kept watch on him, making sure at least one of them was with him at all times like he was some sort of volatile mental case. The only thing was, without another person to cover the fact that he could not drink straight alcohol and had to dilute it with blood, he had the potential to look pretty suspicious.

"I'll have a water." The barkeep glared at him before handing him a cup of water in a filthy glass. Anthony sneered, took the cup and headed to the back of the pub where it was the darkest. Being as covert as possible, he tossed out the water and filled the dirty glass with a can of blood instead.

When he looked up, he spotted a woman staring almost hungrily at him. He suddenly remembered the book he'd read about how attractive he would now be to women. As far as Anthony knew, being a vampire didn't stop him from enjoying the occasional tryst.

He didn't want to take advantage…but he totally wanted to take advantage.

Anthony smiled slyly at the woman, which she returned seductively. He was very glad Leopold wasn't with him.

The woman gave him a very convincing come hither glance and he followed her to the back of the pub. She'd found an empty back room and the moment he stepped through the door, she'd clamped her lips onto his, pushing him back against a wall.

That was when he smelled it.

"Do you have a cut?" He asked breathlessly, when she released her hold on his lips.

"I cut my finger this morning cooking breakfast. Why?" Anthony wanted to push her away and flee from the room before he did something he'd regret, but the scent of blood grabbed hold of his senses and wouldn't let go. Hunger like he'd never felt before overwhelmed him, made him weak. He only had one thing on his mind and it wasn't necessarily the same thing on hers.

He leaned down, gently licking a spot on her neck. She purred softly, pressing herself against him.

Just one bite, he told himself. There was no harm in that.

He was hungry.

"Ouch!" She protested, putting a hand on Anthony's cheek to move him. Only, he'd broken the skin; there was no moving him now.

Her hot, sweet blood streamed over his tongue and he almost gasped and pulled away from how rich it was. It was nothing like the blood St. Mungo's gave him. He felt like he'd been breathing into a pillow that was finally taken away. Everything was clearer, stronger, better. With each successive heartbeat, she filled him with life. Or about as much life as the undead could have.

Suddenly her heartbeat slowed and her grip on his shoulder slacked. Startled, Anthony broke away from her. He thought she was dead and the horror of it made him drop her. Her breathing was labored, her eyes fluttered weakly. Anthony stared down at her, trembling. Her blood had rejuvenated him, but the fear that he'd killed her took all that away.

The two puncture marks he'd given her neck stood out vividly against her pale skin. He couldn't leave her here, everyone would know it was he who left her in this broom cupboard to die, and they'd look for him. But she was a muggle, so they'd probably not find him. However if the Ministry caught wind of what he'd done, they wouldn't offer him a lovely cottage in Salisbury again.

He gathered the girl in his arms and bit her on top of where he'd first bitten her so it wouldn't be immediately obvious that it was teeth marks. Then he turned and apparated. He luckily knew of a fairly busy muggle hospital in London that wouldn't give him a hard time.

When he was sure they wouldn't ask too many questions, he left her in their care and hurried home.

He sort of sat in a corner of his couch, staring at a window that once showed him the outside. He couldn't processes what he'd just done, his brain, now logical instead of blood thirsty, would not allow him to understand that he had in fact just bitten, taken the blood of, and almost killed, a woman.

The first time his friends had let him alone and he did this. Leo would never let him live it down.

_Crack!_

Anthony released every oath he knew and that still did not convey how much the sudden appearance of Harry Potter startled him.

"There were a few in there that I didn't know," Potter remarked. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

"_Scared_ me? If I had a beating heart, it would have stopped."

"It sort of grosses me out that your heart doesn't beat, but I didn't come here to be grossed out. I came here to tell you that Roger actually picked a good place. I just saw it, do you want to?"

"I—can't. Not right now." Harry paused, looking at Anthony strangely. He took a step forward.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine, Potter." Harry took another step forward and Anthony recoiled as best as he could, back into the couch. Harry smelled like the opposite of blood. The opposite of that delicious, enchanting, warm scent that drove Anthony wild. This smell made him want to vomit.

"Is that blood on your shirt?"

"Did you bathe in garlic?" Harry and Anthony looked at each other, suspicious. Anthony glanced down to find dried blood droplets on the front of his shirt. Harry stepped backward again, looking sheepish.

"Yeah it's blood. I had a can a while ago," Anthony replied, cautiously. He didn't know how good Potter was at detecting lies. "Must have spilled some."

"I had pasta for dinner." The garlic smell made Anthony's nostrils flare and nausea clenched his stomach. The books had said that garlic would affect him, but if only smelling it made him feel this awful, he couldn't imagine what would happen if he was near the actual thing. Or if some touched him.

They both stared at each other. Anthony didn't believe Harry's story, and Anthony wasn't sure if Harry believed his.

Harry Potter was afraid of him, though. He was sure of that.

"Maybe I will have a look."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

As the Ravenclaws' club neared its opening day, the _Daily Prophet_ began running more and more adverts for it. Michael Corner seemed to be writing more and more praise about it, as well, as though he were the owner. Or friends with the owner.

The weekend before the club's opening, there was an interview with Harry Potter and how he felt about throwing his money into such a questionable endeavor.

"Brilliant! It's going to be the greatest thing to hit wizarding kind!" Potter's beaming face was splashed across the _Prophet_ and you couldn't go anywhere wizards were without hearing someone talking about it.

The next day, the creator of Kwickspell wrote an angry letter and Michael and Potter were forced to apologize for their overzealous enthusiasm. Michael was reprimanded for not having an unbiased opinion in his writing.

The only problem with all the publicity was, the club was as yet unnamed.

"It's so unfair that you all keep rejecting my suggestions," Summers protested after another one of his ideas was brutally shot down. They were all sitting in the newly furnished club, staring at the thousands of tiny twinkling points bewitched onto the walls and ceiling to look like stars. Cho was admiring her furniture choices by running her hands over the fabric and smiling widely. Michael was watching her neurotic behavior with a scowl, either jealous that she wasn't rubbing him or freaked out that she was rubbing the couch at all. The others were playing poker, glaring at Roger, who was winning. Anthony was trying not to think of his previous hunger induced transgressions while acting like nothing abnormal happened.

He hadn't bitten anyone since then, but not for lack of opportunity or desire.

"If you came up with a decent suggestion, we wouldn't reject it," Mandy replied, glancing at Jonathan over her cards.

"Yeah, I'm not sure a club owned by Harry Potter and Anthony should be named 'Sparkle'," Roger said.

"I suggested that one ages ago, Roger, let it go."

"I just can't believe you suggested it in the first place."

"What about Midnight?" Cho called out from her luxuriated position on the couch. Silence fell, as they considered this, broken only by the sound of shuffling cards. Finally, Anthony spoke up.

"Yeah, okay. That sounds good." There was a general murmur of agreement from the group. Cho smiled widely again, curling a finger at Michael to join her on the couch to celebrate her victory. His freaked out expression quickly changed to excitement and he practically leapt over to her. Jonathan gave her a dirty look, which she didn't see, but had to agree that the name suited the club better than anything else he'd come up with.

"We'll have to design a logo," he said grudgingly.

"I can ask Dean to do it. He's good at that sort of thing," Harry supplied, throwing down his cards. He was no good at poker, which was why he was always the first person they called when the Ravenclaws and Pucey wanted to play. They one time made the mistake of inviting Harry's friend Ron Weasley to join them one time, and he cleaned them out in under an hour. He hadn't been invited back since.

"Potter, you're woefully horrible at this game," Roger remarked with a laugh as he won, again. Everyone groaned, watching him take their money. "It must be a Gryffindor thing."

"Nah, his friend is good at it. That Weasley bloke," Mandy replied. "It must be a hero thing. Harry can't lie."

"Oh yeah, the bravery thing." Pucey rolled his eyes. "Even Hufflepuffs can lie." He stage whispered to Anthony. Anthony snorted, dealing out the cards.

"He'll learn, someday. If he sticks with us." Anthony glanced up and caught sight of Harry massaging his neck. And that was when Anthony noticed how muscular Potter's neck was. He could almost see the blood pumping in Potter's veins. He got a sudden vision of himself sinking his teeth into Potter's neck, savoring the heroic blood that kept the other man alive. He could imagine how good he'd feel after that feast, considering how he felt after the muggle woman.

Anthony suddenly realized what he'd been thinking about and abruptly stood up, almost knocking over the table. The others look up at him, startled.

"You all right, mate?" Roger asked, concerned.

"Yes, fine. I just—I thought I saw a beetle."

"You jumped up like a scared schoolgirl for a beetle?" Pucey sniggered.

"It surprised me, okay?"

"It better not have been a beetle. There are health codes we need to comply with," Jonathan said, leafing through his pile of papers that surrounded him on the floor. "Ah, here it is. Yes, beetles are on this list." Mandy drew her legs up under her, glancing around suspiciously. Muffled noises were coming from the couch assuring everyone that Michael and Cho were unconcerned about beetles. Leopold, surprisingly silent that night, wasn't on the look out for any more beetles, he was watching Anthony with a raised eyebrow.

"It wasn't a beetle, it was a shadow. Just calm down." Mandy didn't lower her feet to the floor, but she did stop swiveling her head back and forth like an overgrown owl. Jonathan tossed aside his health code rules and regulations and went back to the guest list for Midnight's opening.

"It's getting late. I think I'm going to turn in," Anthony muttered, uncomfortable under Leo's calculating stare.

"Yeah, I need to get home. Ginny should be there, soon." Leo's stare turned hard and he redirected it to Harry.

"Hm. Married already," Pucey scoffed. "Shame really." Harry ignored him, standing up and stretching. Anthony had to physically force himself not to look at Harry's neck by busying himself with pushing his chair in.

He didn't know why he had this sudden desire that bordered on a need to feed on Potter.

"You're just jealous that no woman wants to come home to you," Mandy teased Pucey.

"Are you offering, Brocklehurst?"

"Hm, with an invitation like that, how can I resist?" Mandy smirked. "Hey! It's time to come up for air and go home," she called to the pair on the couch. Michael's head popped up over the top. He gave them a sly smile smeared with lipstick.

"Time to go already?" he asked. He suddenly disappeared again and when he popped back up his hair was mussed. "You guys go, we'll lock up here."

"Oh ugh, we just bought that couch!" Jonathan protested bounding over to them and pulling Michael away. "You do that on your own furniture."

"Fine, fine." Michael grabbed Cho and they apparated, Cho giggling. Jonathan sighed, shaking his head and following suit. Mandy laughed, said she hoped they hadn't gone to the flat she and Cho shared and vanished.

"Come Pucey, Leo. I can take your money at my place," Roger said, smugly. Pucey shrugged in agreement and he and Roger apparated. Leo stayed behind.

"You've bitten someone, haven't you?" He said abruptly.

"No."

"You're lying."

"Only because you looked like you didn't want to hear the truth." Leo sighed.

"Who was it?"

"Some muggle. I didn't kill her, if that's what you're afraid of. And I haven't bitten anyone since."

"But you want to."

"Hell yes I want to. But I _haven't_ and that's important." Leo paused, thinking. He didn't seem angry or scared. He seemed thoughtful, perhaps a bit sad. Anthony looked away, annoyed by Leo, for some reason. Leo had no right to feel sad. _He_ wasn't one of the world's most hated creatures. _He _didn't have to stop himself from clamping his teeth on Harry Potter's neck. Anthony was suddenly reminded of Leo's tryst with Potter and thought perhaps that last bit was untrue.

"Maybe you should."

"What?"

"Think about it. If you keep stopping yourself from doing what you should, eventually you're going to snap. So maybe you should." Anthony wasn't quite sure of what Leopold was suggesting.

"You want me to attack more muggle Londoners?"

"No, of course not. The books said animals were just as good. Go find some animals. Try Hampstead. Maybe the zoo."

"You don't think that'll make me some kind of crazed creature of the night?" Leo sighed again, waving his wand to clean up the cards on the table.

"You already are. But at least then you'll be satisfied and won't eye Potter like he's afters."

"Aw, but it makes you uncomfortable, and you know how much I love doing that!"

"I can't decide if you were this horrible of a human being before growing fangs or if it's a side effect."

"I was this horrible before. But now I can use the fangs as an excuse."


End file.
